Endlessly
by Scotia Daniel
Summary: The red head trailed off, glaring at the broken mug on the ground as though it were to be blamed for her uneasiness. She could feel the tiredness in her body from not sleeping right for a week. Honestly, April couldn't even recall how much sleep she had received with everything that had happened...


April's hands shook as she tried to pour herself and the man behind her a cup of coffee. She trembled as she struggled to hold the container of coffee up as the black liquid trudged out. But a second later, the mug went crashing to the ground and April quickly placed the container of coffee on the counter before she could drop that as well.

"I'm sorry, Dad, I..."

The red head trailed off, glaring at the broken mug on the ground as though it were to be blamed for her uneasiness. She could feel the tiredness in her body from not sleeping right for a week. Honestly, April couldn't even recall how much sleep she had received with everything that had happened...

"It's okay, sweetie..." Kirby O'Neil was by her side in an instant. When had he moved? He guided her away from the mug, took some paper towels and cleaned up what coffee had spilled on the floor and removed what ceramic he could from the ground. "I didn't need a cup of coffee, anyway."

He led her to the wood table she and her family used for dinners often when the boys and Splinter decided to visit from the sewers. Once she sat down, April buried her face into her hands, trembling.

"God, I'm just so...worthless." She mumbled into her palms.

Kirby took her hands and guided them away from her face, giving her palms a light squeeze with his fingers. "Honey, you are not worthless. This isn't your fault."

Naturally, April's eyes broke away from her father's eyes and trailed up to the ceiling where she and Donatello's room was. She could almost see the limp figure of the mutant sprawled in their bed, his chest lightly rising and falling. She could almost envision the bandages around his head and arms, the gauze on his chest.

"Not worthless, huh? I can't even pour a cup of coffee, Dad. How can I take care of him if I can't even do that?" She brought her eyes back down to his, two pairs of matching blue eyes staring one another down.

Kirby sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Honey, he'll be fine. He needs time to heal. Donnie always pulls through when he's hurt. And you did a fantastic job at nursing him back this far. I know it looks bad and seems bad, but you and I both know he'll be back to his old self soon enough. He's lucky to have you as his doctor."

April gave him a small smile. He was right. Donatello had had far worse wounds over the years, but that still didn't stop her from worrying. Every day was a constant fear of him not coming home from a mission with his brothers. Her brothers now, too, she supposed.

Their whole relationship was a gamble. He could be hurt or killed at any time and she'd always worry. But her love for him was stronger than her worry and she knew she would always be there to nurse him back and kiss his wounds away with time. It was just a matter of patience, which she honestly didn't have when it came to stuff like this.

April reached over and gave her father's hand a squeeze before standing up and pacing the kitchen, lost in thought. She was so afraid to sleep by him, not wanting to reopen his stitches, feared that sleeping in another room would make her miss him calling out to her if he needed her. She was so torn on what to do, she often just sat and watched him through the long nights, cleaning his wounds and feeding him when need be to keep him healthy.

"You really love him this much, don't you April?"

The red head wanted to scoff. Love was an understatement. If Donatello asked her to jump off of the Empire State Building with him, she would. If saving his life meant taking hers, she would give her life happily. If her kisses brought him happiness, she would drown him in them until he couldn't be happier.

Her love for him was deeper than the deepest trench in the sea, sweeter than the sweetest of chocolates the world has to offer and more honest than Abe Lincoln's word. April knew she would see his gapped grin again in no time, longing to feel the strength of his arms around her once more and couldn't wait to hear the excitement in his voice over the latest advancement in science that week.

April smiled and brought her eyes back to the ceiling, her love for Donatello shining brightly in her eyes surrounded by sunken sockets from how tired and worried she had been. She realized her father was still looking at her with anticipation for her answer. April licked her lips, not removing her eyes from the ceiling.

"Endlessly," she breathed.


End file.
